


Tyrant King

by gothkore, LanaDelHoe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternative Dimensions, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dark Magic, Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Kings & Queens, M/M, Toxic Relationships, Two Authors :D, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothkore/pseuds/gothkore, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaDelHoe/pseuds/LanaDelHoe
Summary: Only in his dreams does Lance see the tyrant king.





	Tyrant King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LanaDelHoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanaDelHoe/gifts), [Nefertit_Osiris](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nefertit_Osiris).



> Henlo, tis I. Ya girl. Back with some dark shit for you to read. Im writing with mah gurll LanaDelHoe so there will be a switch in writing here and there. Tell us what you think in the comments (ﾉ*ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ

Lance finds himself brooding underneath the night sky. Its quiet out, and the stars seem to blink in and out as if asking what was wrong but he- himself -doesn't know. He's brooding. A dark still kind that leaves his mind cotton numb and limbs stiff. Something's wrong. He knows something is wrong- but what? He doesn't know.

 

The night sky is like static and Lance finds himself on edge as he gazes into the dark blurred distance. A frown etched on his face and pout jutting out his plush bottom lip.

 

Its annoying. This feeling. And he knows just sitting here pouting won't do any good. Lance needs to move. To fidget and stretch and move his stiff limbs and unwind his mind that is stuck like grinding gears that need a good oiling. He stands and finds himself tugging on a too large coat and thick boots. He leaves his apartment after locking the door and stands for a moment, completely lost in thought. He's leaving yet he doesn't even know where he's going and it's sad really. That he's stuck like this and has been for awhile.

 

Something isn't right in his simple life and Lance doesn't know what it is. He's just a simple man. No tragic back story or fucked up life. Just a normal twenty-one year old with a loving family and good friends. Its a relatively good life. One might even say envy worthy of . But... Something wasn't- isn't -right. 

 

Lance sighs aloud to nothing in particular and finds himself walking in a random direction. He still feels numb. And the stiffness in his body is ever so present as if waiting for something dramatic to happen. He suppose he could blame it on his dreams. His incredibly vivid dreams. But Lance is a realist, and as much as the supernatural amuses him, he doesn't like comparing it to real life. Still...

The dreams. God, the dreams are something out of this world.

 

Mind you, as he has said, he's just a simple man. Nothing special and nothing boring about him. Just... Normal.

 

But his dreams are something you'd take right out of a fantasy film. He finds himself in a dark world- a literal dark world where the skies are forever pitch black night and the moon is a permanent jewel hanging in the sky. Oceans, Forest, and Deserts as far as the eyes can see stretch far and wide. 

 

Muted colors on an ink black drop, and the inhabitants like nothing of this world. They look human...ish.... Save for wings here, scales here, fangs, fur, slitted eyes, etc etc, and the local tongue consist of more languages and dialect then regular earth. 

 

Well, in a way, you cannot compare something fictional to reality. But Lance would have to say his dreams consist of him being on an earth like planet that clearly isn't earth.

 

He's someone important there he believes. Though he can never truly see him. It's like playing a video game in first person. You're seeing through the characters eyes and not full screen. He's dressed in a sheer opaque cloth that shimmers like moonstones caught in the moonlight rays and his skin is always constantly shimmering in literal dusted gold. 

 

He sits in a high chair, creatures groveling and worshipping at his perfect feet while he sits slouched and bored, gold crown tipped off his head lazily. His own bronze hand held tightly in a larger hand that is as pale as ivory. Purple and blue veins dancing underneath the translucent flesh delicately.

 

But it always stops there though.

 

The dreams.

 

Lance can never see who's hand he is holding nor the actually place he resides in. Its all blurred watercolors on a canvas and it frustrates him.

 

He runs an annoyed hand through his soft cropped hair and blinks dazedly. It seems he's lead himself to a local park. Only, its no park he's ever seen before. Its ethereal in a sense. The lake in the middle looks like it has been dusted in crushed diamonds and the earthy green foliage surrounded it is so lush and rich in color its dreamy. 

 

Lance blinks and walks closer, as if a magnet is pulling him toward the water, telling him to come closer and stare forever. It is truly breathtaking he notes squatting on his haunches to get a closer look. The water is a living contradiction. So clear, shimmery, and transparent at the top, yet so deep and obscure at the same Time as it gets close to the bottom. Its beautiful. And Lance aches to touch it.

 

His fingers skim the top lightly, and he's surprised to feel that they aren't wet at all. He must be dreaming again. Thinking he left to get some fresh air only to be fast asleep on some random surface in his home. 

 

But, he wonders, how could he be so aware of the fact that he is a asleep? Lucid dreaming comes to mind, but this feels a little deeper than that. At least when you lucid dream you are aware of the fact that you are asleep but now, here, he's lost. Lance sighs angrily and slaps the water in his frustrations. It splashes sluggishly as if it doesn't want to move and lands on his cheek and eyelashes. 

 

"What's wrong my love?" The velvet smooth voice of his King com from behind him, and Lance blinks as if in a daze. His long lash flutter and he glances around before facing his lover. "I don't know" he admits honestly, staring at the ground with wide confused eyes. "One minute I'm gazing at the Analie and the next I'm just-... Gone." 

 

His lover gathers him tightly in his arms and leads him away from the Analie, murmuring soothing words in his ear. Their robes swish silently and powerfully in the still air as the walk together side by side and Lance frowns when his crown tips to the side. His King presses soft cold lips to his jaw. 

 

"Don't worry my Queen, you must have been daydreaming. That is all" he soothes and Lance hesitates, just for a moment, before he agrees and let's his lover lead him back to the palace.

 

He doesn't tell him how dream and reality has become blurred like smeared paints. Nor does he speak up on the fact that he doesn't remember coming to the Analie.

 

Lance hits the ground with a dull thud and sits up frantically, wrapping his arms around his body tight to absorb the warmth of phantom body heat. He's outside, in the park by the lake. The normal looking lake without an ethereal glow and heaven lush plants. He must have have fell asleep gazing at it, though he doesn't remember doing so. 

 

He sighs and rubs his tired eyes before running a hand through his hair and sitting up. Something is wrong with him. Lance knows that. He can no longer distinguish the difference between dream and reality, nor can he control when he falls asleep.

 

More and more, everyday he finds himself asleep, dwelling in a world that he rules with his mysterious lover that he cannot see. Its maddening in a sense. Lance is losing control of his own life and can do nothing to stop it. He stands shakily, leaning heavily up against a nearby tree as he buries his face in his hands. 

 

The phantom warmth of an unknown lover leaves his steadily and the night chill slowly begins to seep into his bones. Lance shakes and wipes at his misty eyes, tugging his coat around him tighter to battle the oncoming cold. 'There's no use in crying here, cold and alone' He thinks. 'At least if I do, I'll do it in the comforts of my bed.'.

 

He walks back home in a daze. Desperately trying to remember "his King" and the land they rule together.

 

When home, he shuts the door with a slam and quick lock before throwing his cost to the ground and kicking his boots off. He's exhausted yet he fears sleep. Lance fears the unknown and things he cannot control. He thinks about calling Hunk. About spewing his secrets, and fears, and cryptic dreams. But its late and they both have work in the morning. 

 

He could probably tell Hunk tomorrow after work. When they're both free and work isn't kicking their asses. Lance lies in bed not bothering to change his dirty pajamas and stares at the ceiling with wide blue eyes.

 

He won't sleep, he tells himself. He won't he won't he won't he won't he won't-

 

He does and its pleasantly terrible.

 

-

 

Lance wakes up to a dull ache in his body and limbs relaxed and loose. He's tired- no exhausted, and black bags make their way home underneath his puffy eyes. He shuffles to the bathroom and stands with closed eyes in front of the mirror, tilting his forehead to rest against the cool glass. 

 

Yawning, he opens his eyes and blinks hard as willing what he is seeing to simply disappear. Love bites lie etched into his skin possessively and his lips are plump and red from abuse. Shaking- he brings his fingers to trace the broken skin and wretches his hand away when he finds that they are still sore. Bits and pieces of his dream hits him hard.

 

Lips on his neck, teeth in his throat, bruises of love marring his skin as he cries out with pleasure. Faintly, he can remember warm marble pressed up against his front as they fucked him hard. Hard enough for him to scream and hard enough for the evidence to still be left the next day. Lance wants to blame it all on being drunk. 

 

He wants to say after his walk last night he came home and got wasted on his only bottle of vodka and called a past lover up. Lance wants to desperately blame the bruises marring his skin and ache in his body onto something else. Something reasonable and realistic but he can't. He remembers last night so clear and sharp that its like remembering in HD.

 

It doesn't make sense but then again when has his life made sense lately? Every since he started having these dreams he can no longer tell what is real and what is fake. Its like he's constantly living on the edge of fantasy and reality. Touching the sore hickeys on his neck one last time he proceeds to grab his face wash and ignore them. 

 

Maybe if he pays them no mind then they won't actually be there. Its childish thinking- he knows -but what can he do? His life is spiraling out of control and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

 

Leaving the bathroom he pulls on simple denim jeans and a thick turtle neck sweater that ends in sweater paws. He wears the same dirty boots and large coat from yesterday, and grabs his phone before heading to work. 

 

Lance walks because he can't bare the thought of being trapped in such an crowded enclosure as the bus with his abnormal thoughts. He passes the same park he fell asleep in last night and stares pointedly past it in fear that if he looks he'll succumb to sleep. Just the thought of it makes him fiddle with the turtle neck sweater collar and blush slightly.

 

Eventually his job Altea comes into view and Lance murmurs and quiet greeting to his coworker Pidge before hanging up his coat and clocking in. He's a bit earlier then his usually time, about fifteen minutes actually and Pidge gives him a questioning glance. "The faster I get the day done and over with, the quicker I can go home" he tells them grabbing his apron to tie it around his torso. 

 

Pidge hums in acknowledgment before starting up the coffee pot. Altea is one of those little shops that are too small to be considered an actual restaurant yet too nice to not be one. The interior is a gentle clash of metallic and pastel, with futuristic 90's vibes to it. The plush leather seats are a soft lavender color and the table tops are cotton candy pink with sharp silver highlights that reflect off the bright lights. Its a lovely place to be and well known for their food and drinks. The gorgeous owner Allura too.

 

Lance greets Hunk when he walks in about eleven minutes later. He thinks about mentioning wanting to speak to him after work but its still early and no one wants to do any real talking right now so he refrains. It isn't long before Allura joins them and Altea is soon busting with customers. 

 

Lance makes two bubble teas for a edgy girl with mermaid colored hair and slides a Devils Delight doughnut to a shy looking boy who gives him sweet eyes. Lance thinks about flirting with the curly haired cutie for a second, but refrains when the hickeys dappling his neck ache with a harsh vengeance. 

 

"Ah- Lance! Can you take this to the booth in the far right corner for me please" Allura begs, all but shoving a tray of galaxy doughnuts and unicorns fraps his way and Lance inwardly sighs before nodding with a dull smile. 

 

Taking the tray he walks slowly, dodging a group of hipsters who stand around and talk about the boom of Asian, namely Korean and Japanese, influence in the states. Its actually a decent conversation from what he usually hears and he silently gives him input. 

 

He sees the booth up ahead and slides the tray down with a somewhat charming smile before going to dart off. A hand grasping his wrist is the only thing that prevents him from doing so and Lance snatches his hand away as if burned.

 

"Woah there Pretty Boy, we mean no harm" A man about his age, maybe a year or two older, drawls out with his hands raised in mock surrender. He's handsome in a devil may care kind of way and the pretty blonde with purple eye contacts next to him exudes the same kind of attitude. "Sorry" Lance murmurs putting of a lopsided smile. "How can I help you?"

 

"We were just wondering something about your guys menu" the pretty blonde pipes up and Lance turns his gaze to her. "Um, shoot I guess" he tells them and really, he should at least pretend to be engaged in conversation. If Allura was here right now, Lance was pretty sure she would have busted a vein from how angry she would have been at his lack of etiquette. 

 

Lance wants to care, to at least pretend to care but right now he feels a mess. "So we noticed that you guys have a five-star rating and even a mention on Buzzfeed, is that because of how pretty you are?" She ask with a flutter of long lashes and Lance stares confused at the two people before him. Was she flirting with him? Were they flirting with him??

 

"I'm not sure I follow" he admits and its the guy this time who says something. "Wow, your obliviousness is really cute. She's saying your looks are five-stars" And oh. Wow, Lance supposed that was a bit clever if not corny. He cracks the slightest smile and ignores the vicious ache in his neck. "That was really corny" he tells them with a giggle and the ache in his neck turns to a steady sting. "Fuck you're really cute" the blonde says, "What your name Sweets?"

 

"Lance, you?"

 

"I'm Nyma and this is my boy toy Rolo."

 

Lance snorts at the mention of boy toy and Rolo rolls his eyes before tugging on one of her pigtails. "Well I have to get back to work..." He tells them and he's cut off with a lazy whine from Rolo. "Reaaalllyy?? Already?? But the fun has just started."

 

"Yeah, sorry. Nice chatting with you two though." They whine some more in a way that Lance can't help but find endearing as he walks away. The marks on his neck throb with a hard steady pulse and he wants to hiss out in pain. It hurts. 

 

Ah, it hurts so bad, like someone taking a hot poker to his neck and branding him, and Lance wants to cry out. To fall to the floor under the pressure of the pain and curl up into a ball but he can't and the thought of it makes him whine lowly. Allura gives him a grateful smile as he passes her but Lance can't find it in himself to respond back. She frowns and he turns away with a pained grimace.

 

The rest of the work day is uneventful. He works quietly and diligently, not even bothering to smile or engage with customers like he usually does. Multiple times he finds himself rubbing his aching neck, willing the pain to go away, and its multiple times that he sees Allura give a concerned look but he pretends to not see it. Lance tells himself he's fine even though he isn't truly fine. He just prays to the god he doesn't believe in to make the pain go away and day go faster.

 

Lance blinks with bleary eyes as a gentle hand grasps him by the arm. The contact makes the marked sting and he snatches away with a soft pained whimper. "Are you okay?" Comes the worried voice of Hunk, and Lance stares at him with unfocused eyes before nodding absentmindedly. "I-I'm fine" he murmurs out cradling his hand to the crook of his neck. "Just tired."

 

"I can see. You've been wiping the same spot for a good fifteen minutes now and the work day has been over. Is something wrong?" He ask with so much concern in his voice it makes his throat ache raw. "I'm fine" he tells him again, willing the flash of surreal dreams and blurred reality away from his mind. He could talk to Hunk about. His friend would listen, Lance knows that. But the marks on his neck sting, and his eyes burn heavy with exhaustion, and he finds himself afraid of admitting how he might be losing his mind. How sanity is slipping away from him at the seams. Lance doesn't want to burden Hunk with his peculiar thoughts, so he blinks hard and tells Hunk with a crooked smile; "Its just been a long day."

 

That garners a sympathetic nod from Hunk and a strong clap on the shoulder. "I feel ya buddy but don't worry!" He tells him brightly. "Tomorrow will always be different." And Lance wishes that were true. "Now come on, Allura says she has something she wants to let us all know before we clock out." 

 

He follows Hunk to the Employee room with sluggish feet and leans against the wall tiredly as he and other workers gather around. He spots Pidge, Coran, Kimi, and Eric, as well as one other worker who he has yet to learn the name of enter the room as Allura claps her hands together with barely concealed excitement.

 

"Hello everyone! I just first want to say thanks for all the hard work today and how extremely proud of you all I am. Without you guys, Altea wouldn't have its great legacy that it does today. Secondly, I have some exciting news!" 

 

She squeals with sparkling blue eyes. Her excitement makes Lance crack a little smile and sit up just a little bit taller. "We've met our yearly Quota an then some. Business is booming baby and we are on a roll!!!" The happy cheers and clapping from around the room is defining and Lance claps along feeling immensely proud. No, not everyday does he likes coming into work, but Altea is bearable. 

 

He has great coworkers, a dedicated boss, and great pay, so hearing that they're doing better than great makes him swell up with pride and forget the marks on his neck for a moment.

 

"And one last thing" she says voice booming out around the tiny room. "Around next week we shall be having a new worker join us here at Altea, and like everyone else who has come to work here, I want you to treat the with respect. That is all."

 

-

 

Lance buries his hands deep in his pockets and shivers when a gust of wind nips playfully at his nose and exposed ears. Its incredibly chilly out as Lance begins his track home, shoes scuffing the ground as he walks heavy and lazily. He can't bring himself to pick of the pace. 

 

On one hand he would love to do nothing more than rest up in the comforts of his home, yet on the other he's afraid he'll get lost in his mind again and succumb to a world that is so close- yet so foreign. He closes his eyes briefly and sighs with a lazy tilt of his head. 

 

The same park comes into view the same as earlier and he lengthens his stride as if the devil himself is after him. The park is like a magnet. Repeatedly drawing him in with a force that can't be ignored until they are connected, mind and soul.

 

Up ahead, he can see his home on the horizon. He breathes heavily through though his nose and rubs his eyes before blinking slow and deep.

-

-

-

-

 

"The castle is immaculate as usual,' is the first thing that comes to mind as he snaps awake from his daze. The cold obsidian and marble glint ominous in the moonlight and the mosaic glass of the windows wink like sacred promises. Lance finds himself sighing and pushing his hair back away from his eyes as he walks down the floral path that leads to the castle entrance. 

 

The Queen's golden heeled boots, woven with blood red gems that reflect in the light, cast sparkling crimson upon the ground with each snap of his heel against the pavement. Each snap was like the sound of fire burning wood as he walked with his head held high and his eyes trained out in front of him. Power radiated from him like the sun as he walked with powerful strides up to the colossal doors that part for him like the sea. He stops however with an annoyed sigh when one of the many faceless maids scurry up to him like a dog begging for a bone.

 

"Your majesty," she starts, voice trembling with with fear and desperation, "I beg of you. Won't you please spare a few coins for a poor wench?" She pleads. Her hands shake from anxiety and her feet shuffle together as if suppressing her need to flee like a mouse caught in the eye of a snake.

 

Lance turns his nose up at her form and crosses his arms as he stares her down with a blank analytical gaze. "Do you have no discipline to which you would not even bow down before your own Queen?" He sneers out. "Or is that in your apparent desperation you've lost your mind?" He can't help the improper sneer that makes it way upon his lips, nor can he help the irritation that shows on his face as he taps his foot in waiting. The other servants stare at the scene with demure eyes and Lance finds himself wanting to snap out. To pluck their eyes out their skulls and make them blind. 

 

He's always hated the nosey sort.

 

With each strike of his heel against the marble flooring, the maid visibly flinches. Lance smiles in smug satisfaction. It will always please him to know that his subjects fear him. For one cannot hold loyalty without some form of fear. He's not cruel. No, Lance doesn't think himself to be that. But he knows he's no kind ruler either, nor does he aspire to be one.

 

The maid throws herself down to the ground so fast, he can hear the creaking ache of bones. Once upon a time ago he might have worried for this maid. He'd usher her to her knees with red stained cheeks and worried eyes but now all he can do is stare with eyes that are colder than ice and sneer his pink painted lips up at her incompetence. 

 

"Forgive me your majesty, for I meant no disrespect." The maid looked up, making sure she still had the Queens eyes focused on her. "My husband, he's quite ill. I've been working twice as many shifts to compensate for his absence at work. And I have no time to take care of our son and him as well. So please I beg of you my Queen, could you spare a poor wretch such as me a few coins?"

 

The Queen opens his mouth in a silent laughter and tossed his head back. Loud laughter rang painfully clear through the palace, echoing through empty halls and bouncing against quivering servant. Lance smiled, a child-like smile blossoming on his pink lips as they curled at the ends like wakening roses. Soft. Pretty. Volatile.

 

Cocking his head to the side, Lance narrowed his eyes at the maid before him and smiled sweetly. "Now how about you stick your pretty little tongue out and take a nice, long lick of my boot. If you do it nicely enough you may be blessed," he snickered out. Ah. This wasn't very fitting behavior for a queen but Lance couldn't find in in himself to care. He supposes he stopped caring about these kinds of things long after he got married.  He threw her a charming smile. "It is the closest you'll ever get to riches after all." 

The maids eyes grew as wide as tea saucers as she bent at her back, forcing her knees to dig harshly into the marble flooring, trembling as she tentatively  lapped at his golden boots. She stared him straight in the eyes as she did so and Lance did not mind the defiance. It was refreshing. When her tongue touched one of the many rabies adorning his boots, he drew his foot away and pressed it against her face before drawing it away with a pleased sneer. He was harsh but not cruel. Smiling once more, behind his manicured hand, he reached within his white robes to pull out a sack of gold. He dropped it carelessly at his feet near her head, already bored with the whole ordeal and waved a listless hands.  

 

"The things peasants do for money never ceases to amaze me but, I do suppose you did well. Here. Take it little maid. The money is yours." The room seemed to have held its breath as he sashayed away. Hips light and hypnotic. Heel of his boots ever so present as the snapped at the ground like starving dogs. "Ah, before I go, send your  husband my highest regards." He smirks and twirls with an exaggerated flourish. 

 

The guards standing in front of the door as soon as they see him but he ignores them in favor of finding his husband. He's bored now. So very fucking bored, that not even one sniveling little maid is enough to keep him entertained.

 

"Keith! Darling, where are yo-" 

 

Oh. Oh my, well isn't this a sight?

 

Before him lies his husband, clutching a wound on his shoulder carelessly. The blood gushes from the wound slightly,  staining the shiny, white marble floors like aesthetic macabre. There are two servants on their knees by a body with its head partially decapitated as they scrub the blood off the floor. If anything, they're making a bigger mess than but instead of commenting on it he rolls his eyes and saunters up to his beloved. 

 

"Well isn't this quite the sight? He teases, poking the sluggish wound lightly. "Were you playing with the rougarou's again?" His King just bats his hand away and grumbles. "No. is wasn't if you must know. I had to take out another thing of trash" he says gesturing to the dead man not too far off. Lance hums and winds himself around his husband like a content cat. He's feeling particularly naughty in this moment. There was just something so erotic about seeing his King covered in blood.

 

"What happened?"

 

"It was my hairdresser," he sneers, motioning to his partially braided hair. "The fucker was an assassin and tried to slit my throat. Luckily I saw the knife in the platter before he could do any real damage."

 

Lance snorts at that. There's a knife wound in his shoulder and a knock on his neck from where the knife just barely caught on his skin, yet his lover doesn't consider it any "real" damage. He's so reckless. So thoughtless. So... So fucking sexy.

 

Lance presses feather light kisses to Keith's neck, lapping at the little strays of blood that he encounters. Keith quirks a single brow at that but lets his Queen do whatever he desires. Lance trails a sly finger downward to slide up Keith's patchy wet shirt. His fingers dance and glide across rippled abs and he shivers when they flex underneath his touch. He can't help but to shuffle his thighs together and dig his perfect nails into the hard flesh. Lance feels so very very excited.

 

Cold lips press to the shell of his ear and whispers: "Do you really want the servant to watch their Queen fondle their injured King?" Keith's voice is light and mischievous, teasing and light in a way that makes Lance pause his ministrations and pout. Well no. He suppose he wouldn't want that. The Kings body and pleasure were for his eyes to see only.

 

Removing himself from the crook of Keith's neck he points at the two servant who're still and watching the scene with wide eyes and tells them "Get out" with a voice of steel. They scramble and trip over their own feet to comply as Keith laughs and Lance glares. The doors open and slam shut with a boom. Faintly, he can hear one of them yelp in pain as it slams against their back. Lance doesn't really care about that though. Only the fact that he and the King are alone now and he's incredibly hard between his legs.

 

"Are you satisfied now?" He ask him with a annoyed huff. Keith nods and stretches, just barely wincing as the muscles on his injured shoulder pull and stretch. Lance makes a breathless noise at the action as more blood flows from the wound. Honestly, they really should bandage that but...

 

He whimpers as a single bead of blood flows down the white clothes of Keith's top, staining it red in its wake.

 

Keith smiles as he shifts his hard violet eyes from his wound to Lance's wanting face and trembling form. "Do you want to touch me?" He asks with a cheshire grin, teeth blinding and smile vague malicious as he trails fingers up Lances parted thighs. "You can if you want to. You know I'd never deny you anything. My sweet Queen." He purrs huskily.

 

Keith picks up the clenched hand that's aching to touch and presses a chaste kiss to it as he stares at him with smoldering lidded eyes. Lance cant help but to roll his own and want Keith even more.  What in the Goddess's name was he going to do with this man? 

 

"Keith, you know damn well I don't need your permission to take what I want" he tells him with a knowing look. Keith shrugs his uninjured shoulder and licks his lips. "Ah, if that's the case then why are you waiting?" Its a ruse and a damn good one too. Trust his beloved to know all the right ways to bait him into their little game.

 

Lance feels Keith's large arms wrap around his small waist, coaxing him to join in on their little game. Not to say that he even needed it, after all, he was the one to start it in the first place. "But what about his injury? A little voice of reason chimed in, and Lance practically choked on laughter. Reason? Since when did he ever have reason?

 

"Keeiiitthhhh" Lance purred out, tasting each vowel on his tongue. Letting each letter glide past his lips like hushed whispers. As much as he wanted to have Keith wrap himself around him, clinging to him tughtky like a child, he rather have him play with his body and vice-versa. He needed to help him. 

 

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's broad shoulders and licked a broad stripe up his neck. "Touch me. Right here" he demanded placing Keith's large hand on his straining erection. Reason? Who was he kidding? Lance loved the attention. Keith stroked him through his sheer linens and the soft fabric rubbing against his leaking cock felt like heaven. He could feel Keith burying his face in his neck. He could feel each every excited inhale and exhale of Keith's heavy breath on his neck. The humidity pressing against his skin was like lighting singing his veins. He could noted the change of atmosphere. The way Keith would rub him fast and suck possessive marks on his delicate skin. Lance knew what Keith wanted, and to hell with himself if it wasn't what he wanted too. 

 

His own fingernails pressed deeper into Keith's shoulders. He brought a intense stare towards Keith, licking at his lips when he found Keith's violet eyes already on him. He could feel his cock twitch underneath his palm and rutted up against him. 'C'mon' his gaze said. 'Hurry up and fuck your Queen.'

 

Keith brought his lips to Lance's neck in a vicious claim. Gone were the light, feathering kisses to his neck, but in place of them, sharp teeth that left purple marks in their wake. And Lance subconsciously knew that they shouldn't. Such things weren't fitting for someone of his stature but gods, fuck it. Every single fiber in his being screamed for it; "Claim me, mark me. Show me who I fucking belong to. Let only me see your true self."

 

Lance crooned softly when Keith finally moved the fabric of his clothing out the way and dug his thumb deep into his slit. He moaned and sung his nails deeper into the meat of his shoulder blades, loving the way his King grunted at the pain. Loving the way blood seemed to just pour out in response. Thick hands twisted into his white and golden robe, tearing it away from his body savagely as if the very fabric had offended him. Gasping at the sheer animosity of it, Lance spread his legs wide as if to say 'take me'.

 

Keith releases his lovers neck, admiring his masterpiece, watching the droplets of the iron liquid streaming down Lance's neck. Unexpectedly, Keith uses his broad hands to cup Lance by his plush thighs. Lifting him up to drop him onto his own grand throne that consist of his lap.

 

He grabs Lance by his small wrists, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to break and grips them down into his lap to get a clear look at his lover. He's so flushed and warm. Smelling softly of bruised peaches. Keith wants to hurt him in the best of ways.

 

Lance can feel the hard bulge of Keith's dick press snuggly against his ass, and just cant help but to tease. Sliding back and forth, rubbing his hips in little circles to watch his Kings eyes darken.

 

Keith bounces his head up, the air moving his obsidian bangs to the side. He uses on of his hands to hold both of Lance's wrists and the other to separate Lance's legs. Causing Lance to yelp, not expecting the ferocity.

 

"Keep these legs open for me only princess. That shouldn't be that hard now should it"? Keith's huffs with the tone of a question. Keith grabs Lance's face firmly forcing Lance to look him directly in his stone cold lilac eyes. Keith slowly trailed his hand up his thigh onto Lance's growing erection. Lance inhaled, feeling the goosebumps from the slight sensation. 

 

Keith flipped Lance on the throne so he was facing the silk cushions of the chair instead of him. Lance moaned, low and sultry

 

"Now tell me." Keith paused smacking Lance's ass, painting it from tan to pink. "Whose ass is this princess"? Lance groaned internally. A queen with a princess kink? Lance seemed to surprise himself every single day. 

 

Lance inhaled sharply. "Yours" Lance whispered softly. " Only your arms feel nice around me, Only your kisses make me feel weak. Every time you touch me I crave more, want to feel your breath in my ear and memorize every one of your scars." Lance turned to look behind him, locking his eyes with Keith in a fierce battle. "Make me feel pleasure" Lance moaned. 

 

That's all the permission Keith needed. 

 

Like a beast, he ripped Lance's shirt. Buttons scattering. He proceeded to strip him of his pants so fast Lance felt the burn as his body was exposed to the cold air. The only thing Keith left was Lance's periwinkle underwear, dangling on his ankle. And Lance's circlet crown left crooked on in his hair. 

 

Keith cradled Lance's face in his calloused hands, smashing his red toned lips against Lance's pink ones. Lance tilted their heads, putting his hands on Keith's sharp jaw. Keith licked Lance's lips, prodding, asking for entrance. Lance smiled into the kiss and giggled softly. 

 

Did Keith really think he was going to get in that easily? In retaliation, Keith brought his hands to Lance's dark nipples, pinching them without mercy. Lance yelped, giving Keith the opening to slip his tongue inside Lance's mouth. "He really does always find a way doesn't he", Lance thought inwardly. 

 

Keith's swirled his tongue against Lance; claiming his dominance. He bit and stretched Lance's bottom lip before exiting. Lance shivered, moaning at the sight of the trail of saliva left from their deeds. 

 

"Keeeith" Lance moaned, knees bucking. Keith chuckles deeply. "I like that princess, keep saying my name". Keith lowered his head in front of Lance's nipples. He latched his lips on them, sucking like his life depended on it. 

 

Lance mewled loudly. "K-Keith, ya-yES"! Keith swirled his tongue lusciously. Keith pops off his nipple with a wet POP. Lance looks at him with hooded, lustful eyes. Keith's looks at him with a toothy grin, smirking. "Look at you, you're a mess. Princess, when I'm done with you. You won't be able to walk." Lance eyes go wide, he open his mouth to reply, but before he can, Keith lowers himself to his pelvic region. Keith holds Lance's cock, licking one long, excruciating stride. 

 

Lance moan incoherently. "Oh, By the GODDESS YES! Keith, Keith, Keith". Lance repeats his name like a mantra. Hiding his face in his arms. Keith continues to swallow Lance's dick like a lollipop. Sucking the precum with it. Keith removes his mouth from his appendage. 

 

"No, don't hide your face princess, let me see you. I wanna hear you scream". Keith says dangerously 

 

Lance gawks at him embarrassingly. "Open your mouth for me princess", Lance complies. Keith sticks his fingers in Lance's mouth, Lance happily sucks on them, taking them in gratefully. "Just like that princess, just like that" Keith states. Keith removes his fingers, a trail of saliva following after them. He brings them down to Lance's entrance. Circling around, rimming them softly. 

 

"Please" Lance pleads. This catches Keith's attention. "Please what"? Keith replies, a teasing tone in his question. " Please, Lance whimpers. Please- stretch me out, I need your cock to stretch me, fill me out, I want to feel it for days. Keith's eyes wrinkle as he smiles. "Your wish is my command your majesty" Keith replies, a smile within his voice.

 

A finger enters Lance. Wet with his precome and saliva. Lance bucks his hips and arches his back. "Keeiithhhhh" Lance whines once more. Another finger is added, scissoring within Lance. Lance moans, feeling Keith's fingers touch his prostate. Keith gets bold, adding two more fingers, sending Lance off the edge. 

 

"Please Keith. I want to come when your inside me, let me ride you. Lance states with hooded eyes. I wanna come seated on your cock." Lance keens loudly. 

 

Keith flips him over, seating him oh his lap. Lance hooks his legs around Keith's body. Lance spits on his hand, lubing up Keith's dick, preparing for entrance. 

 

"Are you ready princess"? Keith blurts. Lance loved this man with all his heart, but a boy was ready for some dick. And he wasn't going to let Keith's teasing stop him. He seats himself on Keith's long, thick, cock slowly. He could see the way Lance's rim swallowed around his cock and stretched wide. Moaning loudly as he does. Keith throws his head back, growling loudly.

 

"Fuck, princess, not even a warning"? Keith shyly asks. He can never get over what the other man does to him every time. 

 

Keith bucks his hips forward without warning, Lance jumping in his lap as he does. "Oh fuck, oh, By the goddess, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ". Lance screams. 

 

Keith continues to thrust up and down viscously. Lance jumping in his lap. Lance throws his ass back, trying his best to match the pass of Keith's rough, erratic, thrusts. 

 

"Goddess-, YES LANCE, I want to feel my name burning on in your throat for days" Keith grunts once more. Lance rakes his hands through Keith's hair. Their covered in blood, sweat, cum, and saliva, but Lance wouldn't want it any other way. This is the way both him and Keith love it. 

 

Lance turns over, they fuck reverse cow girl for a good ten seconds until Keith pulls his hair. Keith continuing the engulf himself in the velvet heat. This view was a rare one. From this angle he could see Lance's plush ass, bounce against his thick cock. It was hypotonic, the sound of the wet skin slapping, and the sight of the skin jiggling as it presses together. 

 

"I'm going to fuck you over my throne, bent over, I hope you don't mind" Keith tells him with an eerie sweetness. Keith pulls out, ounces of cum dripping down Lance's thighs. Lance whines, missing the deep throbbing of Keith's cock. Keith hummed, acknowledging Lance's complaint. He walks around the throne until he's behind Lance. 

 

"Look at our high and mighty Queen". Keith purred. "Who would've known our stone cold ruler turns to mush when he has a dick up his ass" attempting to arouse the other man with dirty talk. 

 

"Shut up" Lance answers shyly. But Lance is waiting for him, back arched up insanely like a bitch in heat. Keith smacks his ass red with one hit before asking "Whose ass is this again princess"? Lance cries out, moaning, hiding his face into the throne once more. "Yours" He sobs. The over stimulation getting to him. "Good" Keith replies in a one word sentence. 

 

He savagingly enters Lance once more, with one deep thrust. Keith groans, relishing in the tight heat once more. Watches as Lance's rim graciously accepts him once more. Lance cries out with his swollen lips, darkened with saliva. Hissing at the thick staffs introduction. Keith's picks up a pace, entering and exiting at his famous vicious pace. Lance's perky ass bounces against Keith's cock once more. Keith relishes in the sight of his balls, slapping obscenely against his hole again. " Christ Keith, yes, fuck right there, right there." Lance recites. 

 

Keith smacks Lance's ass with every couple thrusts. He latches onto Lance's hair, pulling it by every strand, follicle he can capture. Lance kept rolling his ass against Keith, attempting to match his pace. "Fuck" he groans. Keith's wipes his sweaty bangs from his forehead once more. He plunges in more viciously, feelings his orgasm erupting. 

 

The love bites on his neck, the way Keith is pulling his hair and smacking his ass, the way he's thrusting so hard that Lance was 199% he would need a wheelchair tomorrow morning. It was too much. He threw his ass back as hard as he could, And with a shout, he came, clenched down on Keith's dick. He felt Keith come inside him, the hot fluid painting his insides like a Leonardo Di Vinci masterpiece. 

 

Keith pulled out, panting heavily. He made his way to sit down next to Lance. They were both huffing. Their deeds being satisfactory for both parties. Lance laid on Keith's broad, muscular chest. They enjoy the silence for a few moments. Out of the blue, Keith started laughing. Laughter thundering. Lance couldn't help but chuckle also, Keith's rare laughter was contagious. 

 

Lance still looked at him, puzzled. "After what we just did I don't see what could be funny" Lance stated tiredly. 

 

Keith's laughs came down from the once roar. "I'm sorry baby, but it's just funny. You're a queen with a princess kink, when the hell did that even start? I really do discover new things about you every single day don't I "? Keith looked at him smiling. The corner of his eyes wrinkling. 

 

Lance hid his face in Keith's chest, blushing heavily. "Shut up" he whispered softly. " We need a bath and we need to bandage you up, don't forget that" Lance got up, his sticky skin pulling away from Keith's. He gathered his royal robes, putting them on before throwing Keith's clothes at him. He made his way toward the door. 

 

Keith stumbled making his way toward the door while simultaneously putting on his own clothes. 

 

"Lance! Baby wait for me!" 

 

He made his way to Lance, matching his pace. 

He sneaks an arm around Lance's waist

 

"Sooooooo-, about that bath" Keith attempts to ask innocently, not masking the lust within his voice. 

 

Lance looked at him with a befuddled look. "I'm literally limping Keith, I'm not trying to fuck up my entire spinal cord".

 

Keith pouts yet nevertheless relents with a sigh. After all, there was always a tomorrow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ヽ(*ﾟｰﾟ*)ﾉ so because I've never edited a chapter of such caliber before, they may be a few (read: a lot) of mistakes. So sorry. I tried. I barely edit my short stories.


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